ARE WE NOT BROTHERS?
by Spirit Burner AKA Chick Feed
Summary: Both in the bunker, but staying apart between cases. Dean is sick of it & sick of living like a monk. It's breaking both his heart and his spirit. So, time for him to hit the road again & maybe break some vows - Catching Dean outside & alone is what they've been waiting for. THIS Winchester is theirs! - Sad, hurt, angry, ecstatic Dean / Angry, angsty, regretful, worried Sam
1. Chapter 1

**Spoiler alert for Season 9  
**Disclaimer : Not owned by me. If it was, I'd have already put things right.  
_Note_ : Short chapters

Irritated at the delay on S9 E16, unhappy with the  
wedge between Sam & Dean, I've had to resort to  
wishful thinking and deal with the split between  
Sam and Dean in my own little way. A quickie fic :

**PROLOGUE**

-o-o-o-o-

Dean Winchester was stretched out on his bed at the bunker, headphones on, Metallica blasting straight into his brain, both hands behind his head. Eyes open, he stared off into the distance, and wondered just what the Hell he was doing? At what point, exactly, had he turned into a monk? When had the bunker become a freakin' monastery? Complete with vows of silence and celibacy? He was a good looking guy, in his prime, but unless he was working a case, here he was, alone in his room. Like a wind up toy put back in it's box till some kid decided it was time to play with him again. Well...

"_Screw this_!"

It was time for Dean Winchester to hit the road, and possibly break a few vows along the way.

**-o-o-o-o-**

**C1**

-o-o-o-o-

Dean moved quickly and efficiently around his room. It felt good to be packing ready to go on the road again, almost exhilarating. He'd had enough of being a home boy, especially given that the air at home was so frosty. Let Sam bury himself alive with his books, he seemed happy with them and he was much more inclined to embrace the way of a hermit than Dean. Dean, however, was always a creature of restless energy, of movement, of a need to do; and without even a line of communication to his brother _Oops, ex-brother_ he needed to do..._Anything_. Satisfied that he had packed pretty much everything he needed into his duffle, Dean took a last glance around the room he had thought was his before turning to grab his jacket out of the wardrobe. He reached inside, and hesitated. With a shrug and a small smile, his hand moved away from the denim he had been about to get hold of and instead, Dean lifted out an old and battered jacket made of leather.

-o-

His free hand brushed slowly over the black leather, softened by years of use. He couldn't remember when or why he had stopped wearing it. The jacket had once been like his second skin, a part of his identity back then. It came from a time when the reason for Hunting was simple, when the goal was more of their own choosing, before Heaven's Dicks got involved and began to screw with the world. Before he and Sam somehow became, in the words of Babylon 5, _Mankind's last best hope for peace._ Back when Sam was happy to be his brother, before Sam decided that all it took was a few words and he could sever the blood tie between them _Jerk_ Like a film promo montage, snippets and snatches of memories filled Dean's head as he put his arms into the sleeves of the jacket and settled it's familiar weight around. Slinging his duffle over one shoulder, Dean walked out of the bedroom and headed for the kitchen, lifting an ornately decorated antique silver dagger and a gem encrusted trinket box on route, useful if he needed a fast way to supplement the cash he carried with him. It didn't take Dean long to grab what he viewed as essential food supplies, a six pack, bottled water, a loaf, an unopened pack of cooked chicken and the two full bags of M&M's he'd not felt like opening with things being as they were between Sam and himself. He looked at the table, trying to decide whether or not to leave a note for Sam. The decision became irrelevant when Sam walked into the kitchen, coming to a full stop when he saw Dean.

-o-

For a few beats there was silence. Dean waited whilst Sam ran his eyes over his brother, the carrier of food and drink in Dean's hand, the duffle hanging from one shoulder, how Dean was dressed; digesting the likely significance. Dean noted the slight nod of Sam's head when his younger brother appeared to have reached some conclusion and he tensed slightly, readying himself for Sam's reaction, preparing himself to be disappointed by it.

"You're leaving?"

There was little emotion on Sam's face when he spoke, activating the disappointment, sending it running through Dean, and strengthening his resolve. He really couldn't live this way. He had to get out, get back to doing what he loved, be around people who might at interact with him on a friendly basis, rather than view him with unforgiving hostility. He'd had it with constantly seeing that in Sam's eyes, was sick to death of being a recluse.

"Yup...Hope you're ok with me takin' this?"

As he spoke, Dean raised the carrier of food for Sam's inspection.

Sam barely gave it a glance.

"Sure. Take what you need."

Dean was beginning to feel awkward under Sam's blank faced scrutiny.

"Thanks, this' fine. I'd better get off. Er, do you want me to ring you sometime? Let you know how things are?"

"I guess. It's up to you. You don't have to."

Dean lowered his gaze and nodded at the floor, he could feel himself growing angry, starting to feel a blossoming urge to force some emotion out of Sam, drag some clue about what his brother was _really_ feeling from him. It was _definitely_ time to hit the road.

"I see...Well, hope life turns out ok for you Sam, seein' as how I lumbered you with one."

Dean strode past his brother, almost but not quite knocking into Sam, and swiftly headed out of the bunker, resisting the temptation to slam the door. Dean's vision was blurring as he walked toward the Impala.

-o-

Initially, Sam didn't move from the spot he was standing in when Dean brushed past him. He had known Dean was going the moment he had set eyes on him dressed in his father's old leather coat, and he thought he was ok with that. He'd _wanted_ Dean to leave in fact. Hoped it would prove to Dean, finally, that he _could_ carry on without Sam, he _could_ let Sam go. So, why the Hell were there tears running down his face? Why couldn't he stop them? And why did Dean's parting words hurt so damn much?

"_Crap_!"


	2. Chapter 2

_Warning! - Upping the angst factor ;p_

**C2**

-o-o-o-o-

Shutting the lid of the trunk harder than was necessary, Dean used the heel of his hand to angrily rub the unwanted tears from his face. Striding to the driver's side door, he dropped into the seat of the Impala and gripped the wheel with both hands, his knuckles showing white with tension. His movements were quick and sharp as he turned the key in the ignition, knocked the gear into drive and pulled off, refusing to look back at the bunker as he drove away. It was his determination not to look back, that meant Dean didn't see the smartly dressed man and woman step out from the trees and into the road, watching him go. The pair turned to each other and smiled in unison, before blinking out of existence.

-o-

Feeling like he was on auto pilot, Sam had made a pot of fresh coffee, unable to help himself from thinking that it looked like a lot of coffee for one person to get through. Sitting at the kitchen table he tried to make some amount of sense out of his thoughts and feelings. Really, even more so than when he openly denied Dean as his brother, leaving Dean both angry and torn apart inside -_Did I do that three times? I can't remember- _ Sam had managed to actively cut Dean out of his life between cases. He had been ensuring that he was never sat in the same part of the bunker as Dean, and avoided speaking to him unless it became necessary. Silence came naturally to Sam but it never had to Dean, part of the reason Dean didn't like spending the hours in a library, unlike Sam who was more than content to do. Whilst the distance between Sam and Dean had grown, become more ingrained, the bunker had been for the most part, silent as the grave. Both the Hunters had then begun to take refuge in their separate rooms. Whether Dean's reason had been anything like his, Sam didn't know. He hadn't asked at the time, and he _couldn't_ ask now. Before Dean's interference in Sam's life, or rather his death, the bunker had very quickly became their home base. Now suddenly it felt way too big, much too empty. Sam's sense of belonging there had already begun to dwindle, being gradually replaced instead by the growing feeling more akin to being an uninvited intruder stuck wandering the corridors of a large, abandoned museum at night.

-o-

A surge of anger drove Sam rapidly to his feet, the speed of his movement knocking his chair backwards and sending it crashing to the floor. Spinning around, Sam started toward the open kitchen door, knocking a foot against the fallen chair on route. Without thinking, Sam grabbed hold of the chair, lifted it above his head and threw it against the nearest wall, watching in satisfaction as the chair broke on impact, snapping two legs right off. This was all Dean's fault. He had no right! No right at all to bring Sam back. It wasn't Dean's choice to make, it was his, _should_ have been his. Dean conned him, and invited a creature to enter and take control of Sam's body. It might have been Gadriel residing inside, but it was actually _Dean_ who had violated him, and for what? So that poor old Dean didn't have to be alone. And where was poor old Dean now? Right. Exactly where he hadn't wanted to be, on his own. And of course that meant now, so was Sam.

-o-

The pain exploding in Sam's knuckles as he punched the wall meant nothing and he punched it again, uncaring of the sensation when his forefinger and middle finger broke, not seeing the bloody marks on the wall from where the skin over his knuckles had torn and peeled off on contact. Moving away from the wall, Sam turned and let himself fall backwards against it, thumping his back on the wall before sliding down it, until he was sat on the kitchen floor. He immediately began to bang the back of his head rhythmically on the wall, his eyes screwed tightly closed, his breathing deep and heavy. Each time his head hit, through gritted teeth, Sam repeated in sync _Why?... Why?... Why?..._

**-o-o-o-o-**


	3. Chapter 3

**C3**

-o-o-o-o-

"Please, continue driving and follow our directions Dean Winchester."

The Impala swerved, the unexpected female voice from the back seat startling Dean. Eyes flicking up to look in the rear view mirror, Dean glared through it at the couple sat behind him.

"Get out of my car, douche bags, before I_ throw_ both your dick angel asses out!"

As he spoke, Dean was already slowing down, ready to bring the Impala to a halt. The mousy haired female placed her hand gently on Dean's shoulder.

"Dean. Please do as you are instructed. It will make this so much easier, on all of us."

Dean answered her by stamping on the breaks, a satisfied half grin on his lips as the two stow away angels were both thrown forward by the sudden halt. He wasted no time in moving to open his door, fully intending to physically throw the pair out of the Impala if they wouldn't go under their own steam. Unfortunately, he was unable to follow up on his intent, discovering that for some stupid reason, his legs appeared to have fallen out with his brain and were refusing to cooperate with the rest of his body, wilfully remaining exactly where they were. Furious, Dean twisted his upper body around in his seat until he was looking into the back of the Impala_, _directly at the angels. The female looked back at him sadly, whilst the dark haired male simply made and maintained steady eye contact. Dean joined the game, at the same time taking note of how disinterested .. _No, scratch that_ .. how downright _bored_ the male appeared. When he finally spoke, Dean was surprised to hear that he had the husky voice of a 60 a day smoker who had managed to live to be very elderly. Looking at the meat suit he had taken, the angel had chosen some guy who appear to be in his late 30's, maybe very early 40's at a push.

"Harken to my words boy..."

"Harken? _Seriously_?"

" _**Silence!**_ ... You are _not _leaving this vehicle, human, not until I say so. My colleague and I will also not be disembarking. Despite your pointless theatrics, we will remain here, enclosed within this..._Monstrosity_, until we reach our destination. I hope I have made myself clear? Thou ... _You,_ may continue to drive...Unless you require me to apply further encouragement?"

Dean's eyes promised slow death, but he turned around, finding the feeling and movement returning to his legs when he set the car in motion once more. He surreptitiously gave the Impala's dashboard a pat, consoling the car with a quiet mutter, fully aware both angels would be able to hear him with clarity.

"Don't get upset baby. Ignore the nasty old poop mouthed jackass. He's only an angel, and we _both_ know how they're always talking _crap_, don't we girl?"

-o-

The three sat in silence for the most part over the next four or five miles, broken only when the female twice directed Dean to turn. Dean needed to figure out what Bonnie and Clyde were up to and what kind of situation he had got himself into. He decided he'd give the old _friendly cab driver_ approach a shot.

"So...Where am I droppin' you folks? Only reason I'm askin' is in case I need to consider stoppin' for more fuel for my baby here."

The male continued to stare out of the window as he answered.

"For now, you drive. You need not concern yourself with the destination."

Undaunted, Dean switched his attention over to the female.

"You got a name I can use sweetheart?"

The woman's eyes met Dean's in the mirror and she gave him a twitch of a smile.

"Miriam. It is my given angel name, I see no reason to change it."

The male turned quickly to his colleague with a warning frown.

"Oh, stop it. What difference does it make whether he learns my name now, or later?"

Watching the road ahead, Dean raised an eyebrow. It sounded like this pair had a definite plan up their dark suited sleeves. It had been obvious to him right from the get go when they called him by name that he was more than just a handy chauffeur. Whatever their hush, hush mystery plan was, it clearly involved him, and that meant the pair might not be inclined to kill him...Not yet anyway...And _that_ might serve to open up a couple of opportunities.

**-o-o-o-o-**


	4. Chapter 4

C4

-o-o-o-o-

Like a caged tiger, Sam prowled the corridors of the bunker, too unsettled to sit and focus on research. Before Kevin's ghost had made his presence known, he and Dean had done a good job of avoiding bumping into one another. But that had been very different to how things were now. Whilst he and Dean might not have seen each other then, Sam had at least known that Dean was still there, still in the building with him. He was only now coming to realise that just his knowledge that Dean was around had helped to keep Sam from feeling isolated, stopped him from feeling alone, and achingly lonely.

-o-

Unintentionally Sam found himself in the large central area of the bunker. Spotting the Tantalus with it's three crystal decanter's, Sam stopped and poured himself a shot of bourbon, then headed across to sit down in one of the leather wing backed chairs, his long legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles. His thoughts instantly returned to the moment he had found Dean in the kitchen clearly getting set to leave, and the feelings that the sight had aroused in him. Sam wondered if it could possibly purely been the sight of his father's leather jacket that had affected him? _That _he could understand. He hadn't even known that Dean still kept it, then had to admit to himself that the reality was, he had never given it any thought. Still, it made more sense thinking that it was the _jacket_ he was reacting to, not his brother... _Brother_?... Not the _individual_ who was wearing it when he walked out of the bunker. Sam thought back to Dean querying whether he should maintain some contact, whether he should call? Sam truly hadn't meant to put Dean off. Of _course_ he wanted Dean to stay in touch, let Sam know how he was doing, keep him up to date. Why then, had he made it sound like the opposite to Dean? Why couldn't he have just left his answer at a straight forward _yes_? Sam focused more deeply, attempting to look back at events objectively. He _hated_ what Dean had done but, did that mean he hated Dean? He understood exactly why Dean had done it. And wasn't that simply part of who Dean was? In which case, had he disowned Dean for merely following his nature? And, how many times had_ he_ tried to save Dean? Or stop him from dying in the first place, Tuesday after Tuesday? Why, exactly, had he done that? Why had he bothered to keep trying, even though he'd known he couldn't stop it? Why had he fought so hard to find a way to beat those never-ending Tuesdays? Was it, deep down, some selfish need of his own for it to be Wednesday? And, on that Wednesday, when Dean was shot and killed whilst standing by his car. Did he, Sam,really know all those months later, with _absolute certainty_, that it _wasn't_ Bobby he was killing in order to set the wheels turning that would bring Dean back to him.? At that particular moment, did he at all, stop to think even for just one second, whether Dean would _want_ to live, knowing that it had meant Bobby had to die, and that his own brother was the one who had killed him? How would Dean have felt towards him if it really _had_ been Bobby? Would Dean have understood? Been able to forgive him? Would Dean have still called him brother? Sam shuddered. Of course Dean would. Dean would have done _all_ of that...Eventually.

-o-

Sam quickly emptied his glass. What the Hell was wrong with him? Dean was _always_ going to try to save him, and it should have been obvious that Dean wouldaccept assistance in that endeavour if it was offered to him, wherever or whoever that offer came from. Sam_ knew_ that about Dean; his protector, his..._Brother_. Why, by all the saints, had he let it separate them both? It wasn't so very long ago, angels and daemons, archangels and even Lucifer himself had all worked so _very_ hard to break them apart. _All_ of them had failed. Only _he_, Sam freakin' Winchester, had succeeded. Sam almost long-jumped out of his chair, and began to jog back to his bedroom. He needed his cell phone, and he needed it _now_!

**-o-o-o-o-**


	5. Chapter 5

**C5**

-o-o-o-o-

Dean didn't recognise the area he was currently driving through, not that there were any landmarks to help identify the place. They were travelling along a narrow minor road. On both sides of the Impala, the view was the same. Flat fields, filled with the new, fresh, green growth of some crop or other, stretching as far as the eye could see. Dean reached for the tape player.

"Either of you two mind if I put some music on? That is, unless you'd like to start chatting about what the Hell it is that a pair of locked out freaks like _you_ want from me?"

Dean didn't see the male's hand start to move, the angels reflex action being so fast, but he certainly _felt_ the punch as it made contact with the side of his face. The force knocked his upper body sideways and smacked Dean hard in to the driver's door. No longer under Dean's control, the Impala veered sharply to the left, on a heading for the sizeable ditch that formed a boundary between the road and the fields. Dean curled his body up against the car door, readying himself for the impact.

-o-

Without himself having any part to play in it, Dean felt the car swerve back to the right before straightening up, and then gradually slowing to a standstill. Dean didn't wait to find out who had taken control of his baby. Hastily his hand scrabbled to find the door lever. Pulling it he used his body weight to shove the car door open and let himself tumble out head first, tucking into a roll as he hit the ground. Coming out of the roll, Dean was moving almost before he was fully back on his feet, even though his head was screaming at him that there was nowhere to hide, no cover, no place to go to ground.

-o-

Miriam materialised a few yards ahead of Dean. Smiling, she raised her hand, fingers spread, and Dean hit hard against some sort of invisible wall, the impact sending him reeling to the floor. Shocked and dazed, Dean lay where he had fallen, making no attempt to get up. He felt pretty sure that if he tried to right now, he would quickly find himself hitting the deck again. Eyes closed, he concentrated instead on drawing air back into his lungs, to replace the breath that had been knocked out of him when he ran into Miriam's blockade.

"Freakin'... angels."

Miriam appeared standing over him, and looked down at Dean in amusement.

"Back in the vehicle, handsome."

Dean rolled over with a groan and pushed himself up, slowly getting to his feet and walking back to where the male stood by the Impala. He was looking less than happy. Dean actively ignored the guy as he slid back into the driver's seat and waited for his unwelcome passengers to join him. Setting off again, the male's voice definitely sounded vaguely bored.

"Please do not try that again boy...Continue on ahead when you reach the next the crossroads."

Dean drove, the only sign of his slow burning anger being the slight twitch of his tightly clenched jaw. The sound of his cell ring tone coming from the chest pocket on the inside of his jacket broke the silence, and the male's hand, sporting perfectly manicured nails, reached forward over Dean's shoulder from the back seat, hand open, palm up.

"Your phone communicator if you please."

Muttering under his breath, Dean stole a glance at the caller ID as he dropped his cell in to the waiting palm. _Sam_.

**-o-o-o-o-**


	6. Chapter 6

_Desperately wanted to try getting this out before  
__my lucky American friends get to see today's episode. _

**C6**

-o-o-o-o-

Sam was surprised when his call was accepted, he had expected to have to leave at least half a dozen messages begging Dean to ring him before getting to actually speak to his brother.

"Dean, hey. Thanks for answering..._Bro'_."

"I am not Dean. Do not use this device again Samuel. Dean will not be allowed to communicate with you, it serves no purpose."

Sam's heart seemed to skip a beat.

"Who the Hell is this? Let me speak to my brother!"

"Who I am is of no consequence to you Samuel, and it is unnecessary for you to communicate with Dean at this time"

-o-

The language and inflection were both familiar to Sam, his bitter scowl was reflected in the tone of his voice.

"I'm guessing you're some angel or other, which mean's you're right...Your name really _is_ of no consequence to me. Good to know we agree on something! Now. Where..Is..My..Brother? _Answer_ me!"

"Dean Winchester is with us, where he belongs. You have no part to play in this, Hunter."

Sam couldn't help it, he laughed. If ever he needed a sign, then here it was. Yet again, it had been proven to Sam that he and Dean were both weaker, both more vulnerable, whenever they were separated. Sam's laughter aroused the angel's genuine curiosity, something the angel had rarely experienced.

"Why do you laugh, human? What is it that you find humorous? I am... _interested_."

Sam spoke between stifled chuckles.

"Trust me angel, I really don't think it would make any sense if I told you! I want to know where are you taking Dean, and what makes you think, even for a _second_, that he belongs to _you_? Is any of this _his_ decision? 'Cos, if it is, I'd kinda like to hear that from Dean himself. If _he_ tells me this' what he wants, I'll listen. So, it's up to you. If you really want me to back off, pass the phone to Dean."

"Ah Samuel. You must have faith my boy. I _can_ assure you, it really is better for your brother to remain with us."

Closing his eyes in frustration, Sam changed tactics.

"Fine. You want me rely on faith? You want me to stay out of your way? Then, _you_ have to something for me, it's the only way you'll have even a chance of convincing me not to chase you down."

"What is that you would have me do, Samuel?"

"If I can't talk to Dean myself, then _you'll_ have to give him a message from me. And I want the phone left connected, so I can hear you saying it. Understand? Otherwise, I_ will_ hunt you down. And _please_, don't doubt me...It would be a mistake."

There was a moments pause whilst the angel considered Sam's request.

"Very well. I agree. What is this message you wish me to relay?"

"I want you to repeat the following, word for word ... _Sammy_ says he was wrong...Got that?"

"I believe so."

Dean had been trying to gauge Sam's side of the conversation from the angel's answers, now he nervously waited for the angel to pass on whatever message Sam had for him. Dean wished he could pull over, take his eyes off the road, focus entirely on the message from Sam.

"Dean Winchester. Your brother asks that I repeat these words to you. As this will be the last communication between youself and Samuel, I have agreed. Samuel wishes me to state the following..._Sammy_ _say's he was wrong._"

Without waiting for a response from Dean, the angel spoke again to Sam.

"I have done as you requested. I pray that it brings you peace Samuel Winchester."

The call was terminated, and the phone dropped onto the bench seat. In the driver's seat, Dean knew he probably wasn't going to like whatever it was that his passengers had planned for him, knew that he was still up to his neck in a whole pile of trouble but, behind the wheel of the Impala, tears once again filling his eyes, Dean's grin was wider than a Cheshire Cat could dream of. He felt as though something deep down inside of him had been re-ignited. Shimmering and dancing, Dean's soul lifted and soared.

**-o-o-o-o-**

FIN  
_My reason for writing this was to consider a way that Sam and Dean might come back together, what might persuade Sam to forgive? Obviously, there's the secondary underlying situation as part of that. Happy to leave this fic as it stands, __**I'm equally happy to **__**carry it through**__.. I leave the decision to the people that matter_ - YOU!_**  
Please, **__give me a heads up if you would like more. Chick xxxx_


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you _to everyone who helped me out by letting __me know whether to carry on with this fic or not.  
_There's only yourselves to blame now! :D  
_**Apology :**_ _I'm still in the dark about S9:16, not seen it yet, __so any similarities in the next couple of chapters are pure __coincidence, nothing else!  
__Chick xx_

**C7**

-o-o-o-o-

"Miriam? You mind askin' your pal back there to stop staring at me? It's kinda disturbin'."

Dean was surprised at Miriam's response, and the amused crinkling at the corner of her eyes. In his experience it was rare to find an angel with a sense of humour, unless of course it was of the twisted, sociopathic kind of merry making favoured by Gabriel or Zachariah. Miriam, therefore, unwittingly managed to make herself more interesting to Dean. He mentally added her under _Need me alive for now,_ as another possible opportunity.

"Brother, desist. Dean Winchester is disturbed."

Showing no acknowledgement of his companion's word play, the male instead shuffled forward and, resting a forearm up against the back of the front passenger seat, he gazed at Dean from even closer quarters. Frowning, Dean turned his head to the side long enough to glare at the angel before focusing on the road ahead once again.

"We got a problem here Joe? What're you gawping at? Other than my beautifully formed ear."

"You are different."

"Got that right, but you still don't rock my boat."

Dean mentally kicked himself and prepared for the inevitable.

"I was not aware you possessed a boat."

Dean simply rolled his eyes. Talking with angels wasn't always an easy gig, and this one was starting to rate high on the irritating scale.

"Look Joe, either tell me what your problem is, or quit staring and shuffle yourself back in your seat. Otherwise, I swear I'll stop the car. Got that?"

"My name is not Joe."

Dean exhaled a long breath as the angel sat himself back. Even as far angels go, Dean figured this one was _definitely _out there on the edge of the weirdo map.

-o-

Having been cut off by the angel, Sam headed straight to his laptop, hoping to be able to discover his brother's location. Whatever impression he had given to the angel, he had no intention of backing off, Sam was going after them. All he had to do was figure out where they were, and find himself some transport.

-o-

"My brother is named Havi-ja, and he is right. I too sensed a change in you, I believe it occurred after you were given the message from your brother. The message had meaning to you ... _Dean_?"

Miriam's query had the effect of instantly triggering the return of Dean's broad smile.

"Yeah. It means that I'm Sam's big brother, and Sammy's my little brother. We're family and, I _guarantee _you, he ain't gonna sit around playing with himself while I do the mystery tour with you two. Know what I mean?"

"Miriam...Did you witness that too?"

Dean frowned. Checking the rear view mirror, he saw the two angels staring at each another, almost oblivious to his existence. Dean's recently soothed anxiety levels spiked.

"Hey! Somebody gonna explain? Miriam? Havalaugh..Half-a-gee.. Harvey?"

-o-

Sam ran a hand through his hair as he stood looking around the area in frustration. _Gone! Where the Hell could it have gone?_ Sam's gaze again came to rest on the surface of a large leather topped mahogany desk, at the spot where he had taken to leaving the dagger. He had no memory of moving it, and he was _certain_ he had seen it, still laying there, the previous day..._Unless_? Stomach knotting, Sam hurried in the direction of Dean's room, glancing in display cabinets and on shelving as he went.

-o-

A visual scan of Dean's room revealed nothing, other than how serious Dean had been about leaving, the small photo of Dean with their mum having gone from it's usual spot. Sensing already that he wasn't about to find the dagger in here, Sam still quickly checked through drawers, in the wardrobe and under his brother's pillow.

"Nothing! _Son-of-a-bitch! _How can...Crap! _Dean_. He _has_ to have taken the damn thing! Chrissakes Dean. Why_ that_ one? When this place is crawling with weapons, why did it _have_ to be that one? ... Ok. So. At least that means it's with him. Find Dean, find the dagger, find that jerkoff angel, introduce dagger to angel. Easy. No problem! _Jeeze_!"

**-o-o-o-o-**


	8. Chapter 8

**Warning**** : **_For things getting a little saucy_** ;**p _(nothing graphic at all)  
_**C8**

-o-o-o-o-

Miriam turned towards Dean, speaking to the back of his head.

"You will take the next left and follow the signs directing you through the centre of the town we will soon come to."

Dean was sick of being kept in the dark, sick of hearing the half conversations between the pair in the back, angry at still not knowing what they wanted with him and, worst of all, he was now in desperate need of coffee. The news that he was driving towards a town was duly added onto his list of opportunities and he stayed quiet, obediently following Miriam's instructions, biding his time.

-o-

Head high, long legs at full stride, kit bag resting between his shoulder blades, long strapped leather bag containing his laptop hanging from his shoulder, Sam maintained a good pace as he walked, aiming for a T-junction where he knew there was likely to be more passing traffic, hoping to pick up a ride. Not wanting to put drivers off from stopping, Sam had left behind such obvious weapons as sword and, anything else that couldn't be carried in the kitbag, due to being too long or cumbersome. He had no idea if he had chosen wisely or not when it came to the smaller weapons and objects carefully hidden and stored about his person. He had made an attempt to cater for the more feasible scenarios that he might find himself faced with, once he found Dean. One or two angels, whilst not providing an easy kill, didn't overly worry Sam provided Dean was able to fight by his side. However, if there were more, Sam knew he would possibly need to get inventive, rather than outright suicidal.

-o-

Arriving at his planned destination, Sam stood himself at the most appropriate spot to pick up south bound cars, and settled in to wait. He let the first car go by without even trying to flag it down, not expecting the kid driving the red, open topped, Alpha to even _consider_ stopping to offer Sam a ride. A truck driver cheerily gave Sam the finger as he drove on past and an elderly woman driving an old Volvo pretended that she hadn't even _seen_ the tall Hunter with his thumb stuck out seeking a ride. A blue Ford also went past, although the female driver openly looked at Sam as she went by him. Sam began to give consideration to pulling his gun and forcing the next driver to stop.

"_Hey_! You with the hair! You wantin' a ride, or not?"

Turning, Sam saw that the Ford had pulled over further up the road. The driver was standing by her open door, one arm draped over the roof of her car, one hand on her hip.

"Well? You comin'?"

Sam began to jog towards the woman. The driver smiled and climbed back in to the car. Leaning across, she pushed the passenger side door open and waited for Sam to climb in beside her.

"Just stick your stuff over on the back seat hon. Name's Adele."

"Hi Adele, I'm Sam. Thanks for stopping. Really."

"My pleasure. I can never resist tall and good lookin'. You headin' anywhere in particular Sam?"

As she spoke, Adele already had the palm of her hand resting on Sam's thigh. Sam suddenly needed to clear his throat as the woman's hand began to move in slow circles over his denim clad thigh. Infuriatingly, Sam felt his blush spread up over his cheeks.

"Ah, Adele? Could you stop doing that, please?"

Adele shot Sam a mischievous look before focusing on the road ahead again, her hand still stroking Sam

"I_ could, _But that doesn't mean I will."

Sam was taken aback by the woman's blatant refusal to stop molesting him and struggled to find a come back. This was Dean's idea of fun, not his.

"Please Adele. I'm grateful to you for stopping, but this? ... It's not who I am. And I'm sorry if I've done anything to give you the wrong impression."

Adele's hand moved higher and she began to massage the top of Sam's thigh more firmly.

"You're just so sweet Sam. It's ok, really it is Why don't you adjust the back of your seat? Lay back a little, make yourself comfy. Leave everything to me."

Adele's hand finally reached her destination and Sam closed his eyes and sighed, reaching around to his own back at the same time.

**-o-o-o-o-**


	9. Chapter 9

_Finally watched S9:16, and realised that this fic and the episode  
__were heading for major conflict! That meant the plot I vaguely  
__had in my tiny brain had to undergo some unplanned alteration.  
__Hopefully you won't notice the surgical intervention site! :)  
_**C9**

-o-o-o-o-

The Ford fish-tailed along the road and Adele's activities had instantly ceased at the sight of the Taurus in Sam's hand.

"I want you to keep both hands on the wheel, eyes on the road, and drive. That's all. Do that and I _promise_ I won't hurt you Adele. Alright?"

Adele was already focused on the road ahead and, although she now looked a little pale, the woman nodded.

"How do I know you're not just planning to kill me?"

"Because _that's_ not who I am either...At least, not as far as you're concerned. I'm going to get my laptop off the back seat, I need to check some directions. Ok?"

"Whatever...Freak."

-o-

As instructed, Dean took the next left turn and quickly picked up the signs for the town of Burlap. Heading that way, Dean hoped that Burlap turned out to be more than a one horse town. If he was going to try getting away from this pair, a busy town centre would offer him the best shot at disappearing.

"You seem thoughtful Dean Winchester."

Dean had a moment's panic at Miriam's statement, had she been tapping into his thoughts? He shrugged the worry off his shoulder, reassuring himself that the timing was coincidental, it was just a comment on his silence, probably.

"Just tryin' to figure out what I'm doing here, seen as how neither of you want to share your little secret."

Sat behind Dean, Miriam leaned a little closer.

"And what is your conclusion?"

Dean smirked.

"Ok. Well, old Harvey there is easy. He's in love with me, but he knows I'm gonna break his heart. You? You're a little trickier, but I got it narrowed down to two possibilities. One, you came along to hold Harvey's hand, 'cos he's a little shy. Either that, or, you're in love with me as well and you both hoped I'd be up for a threesome. Now though, the both of you are pissed off 'cos you've realised it ain't gonna happen, and Harvey's little premonition that I'd break his heart has just come true. How am I doin' so far?"

Glancing back and forth at the mirror whilst he spoke, Dean had enjoyed the sight of Harvey's straight backed posture grow even more rigid than Dean would've thought possible.

"Try to keep it together Harvey. I promise you'll get over me, it just takes time dude."

"I have no love for you Dean Winchester. You are merely a means to an end."

Dean detected a clear note of irritation underlying the angel's tone, and he wondered how far he would need to push before the angel's irritation turned into a slip of the tongue.

"Really? Now you've gone and hurt my feelings Harv! What's this end that I'm apparently a means to? How come it has to be me? I mean, I stopped doing anything you dicks asked me to some time ago. In case you hadn't heard, I gutted Zachariah. Did you know that little shit? Man, he was twisted, even for an angel! Did you all a favour when I ganked _that_ one."

"Pride is a sin boy, and we are fully aware that you, a _human_, were able to slaughter one of my brethren. Until that act, we had always believed that the only thing which could kill an angel, was another angel. You threw that belief back into our faces and left many of us wondering what else was not as we believed? And now, once _more_ you do something unforeseen. It has come to our attention that you somehow bear the mark of Cain. And_ that_, Dean Winchester, means you have again become extremely useful to us."

-o-

"Do you know a town called Burlap?"

Adele glanced down at the laptop screen balanced on Sam's lap.

"Sure. Why?"

"I'm going to see if I can figure a short cut and I need you to get me there, as fast as you can."

"Do I get to know why, or do I do this 'cos you're still holding a gun on me?"

Sam gazed up at Adele's profile, finally coming to a decision.

"Adele, someone's kidnapped my brother. It looks like they could be heading towards the town. I needed a car, _any_ car, so's I could go after the kidnappers. I'm going to get my brother back."

Adele turned, her glance moving from Sam's face, to the gun, back to Sam's face, and into the eyes which pleading with her to believe him. Turning back to the road, she said nothing, but her expression showed she was thinking things through, so Sam quietly waited. Although he knew the gun in his hand could force the woman to keep driving wherever he told her to go, he actually hoped she believed him, at least enough not to feel afraid of him anymore.

"Why would someone take the kid?"

"Sorry...Kid? _Oh_, no. Dean, he's not a kid. He's my older brother. And, honestly? I don't know why he's been taken."

"So, this Dean's an adult?...What are you both then? Gang members? Your brother owe someone big time and not paid up? What're you trying to get me mixed up in here 'cos really, I don't need no gang crap. You hear me?"

Sam held his cell phone up for Adele's inspection. She glanced at the image on the screen, then looked again, harder, and gave a long low whistle.

"_That's_ your brother?"

Sam looked down at the picture of his brother in full on killer grin mode.

"Yup...And while it might not be who _I_ am, it's _definitely_ who Dean is! What he _isn't_ though, is in a gang or in debt; and neither am I, I swear. Dean, he...Well, he just seems to attract trouble. So, what do you say Adele? Will you drive me? Can I put this gun away?"

The guy's eyes were intense, and so damn sincere. He had manners too, and it was plain that he cared about his brother, and that he was worried about him. And the brother! If that pic was anything like the real thing _Oh boy! Two of them, and both hotter than Hell_. _Adele, time to clear your diary girl. These boys need you! _

"Ok. Call me crazy but, you can count me in. Get me that shortcut sorted gorgeous, and let's you and me hit that town."

**-o-o-o-o-**


	10. Chapter 10

**C10**

-o-o-o-o-

He had no idea how this pair knew about the mark, but the whole pile of trouble Dean _had_ thought he was in, just got a hell of a lot deeper. Even so, he was determined that this time, whatever the cost, there was no _way_ he was going to let himself be a puppet for any angel scum. Not now, not ever again. First chance he got, he was jumping ship.

"Dunno if you're aware Harvey, but really all I got was a cool shaped burn mark on my arm. No powers, no premonitions, no bendy spoons. Sorry if that makes me a disappointment to you lot. Sod's law eh? Still, I don't mind dropping you both off in town if that's gonna help?"

Miriam gave a short laugh, reaching forward, she ruffled Dean's hair like he was some kind of puppy. Dean ducked away from the angel's hand.

"Do not be so concerned. Some of our brethren seek the First Blade even now, and we know that you will share what knowledge you may have in order to aid us in that search. You will not disappoint us, child."

Dean's thoughts immediately turned to Crowley, why hadn't that double dealing sonovabitch returned any of his calls? Where the Hell _was_ the limey ex King? Externally, Dean maintained a casual front.

"Oh, I wouldn't take bets on that, _sweetie_."

The Impala sped on, past a sign board welcoming careful drivers to the town of Burlap.

-o-

"Well. This' Burlap. Nice houses. What now Sam?"

"Follow the directions into the town centre. The main road run's through there. I'm hoping that's the route they'll follow. If I'm right, we've got a shot at spotting my brother's car if we park up near the High Street. You think you can tail someone without being too obvious?"

"Only by how I've seen it done in the movies. Keep a couple of cars between us and them, drive so's you don't attract any unwanted attention, right?"

Sam grinned.

"Right ... Adele? You don't have to do this, you know? You can drop me off at the town centre if you want, I can pick up a car and carry on alone. I really don't want to put you in danger."

"Pick up? You mean _steal_, don't you? ... Sam honey, I'm, well, a bit older than you let's say, divorced, no kids, dead end job. Basically, my life is one long stretch of boredom. So, stop worrying about me, I'm seein' this through. Anyway, I'm ex forces, I'm tougher than I look."

Sam's grin grew wider and he nodded at the good hearted and courageous woman sat next to him, vowing to himself that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.

"Yeah. You certainly are."

"Right then, Hallmark moment over, what kinda car are we looking out for?"

"Black '67 Chevy Impala...Know what Adele? Dean's really gonna like you."

"What's not to like? Let me know where you want me to park."

-o-

Hitting the outskirts of the town centre, Dean began scanning the area, pleased to see plenty of people out and about, getting on with their lives, blithely unaware of the angels in their midst. There seemed to be a decent amount and variety of shops and signs showed the way to the main shopping mall. Up ahead Dean spotted indications of a busy open market. He glanced with envy at the people sat at tables, drinking coffee, out side a couple of nice looking street cafe's. The traffic flow in both directions was slowed down by regular pedestrian crossings and traffic control lights. Dean decided his best chance was to wait until he had to stop for a red light, and then to leave the Impala and make a run for any shop or outdoor space that looked busy enough to provide the chance of getting himself lost amongst the shoppers. Adrenalin flowed throughout Dean's body as he readied himself to move as soon as the opportunity presented. Neither he nor the angels had any reason to take particular notice of an unassuming blue ford when they passed it pulled up by the roadside in amongst the other varied vehicles which were similarly parked.

-o-

Sam suddenly sat bolt upright.

"There! It's them!"

Letting a white Mondaeo past first, Adele pulled out of the parking slot.

"Here we go then. Who's the pair in the back? Is the guy your brother?"

Without taking his focus off the Impala, Sam shook his head.

"No. Dean's driving, those two must be the kidnappers"

"Huh. Didn't expect there'd be a woman involved. If it comes to it Sam, you can leave_ that_ bitch to me. Ok?"

Suddenly panicked, Sam stared at Adele, his tone sharper than he intended.

"_No!_ You don't go anywhere _near_ her, _gottit_? You stay with the car, _hear me Adele?_"

Keeping her eyes on both the road and the Impala as the line of traffic they were in slowed down in response to a red light, Adele frowned.

"_Jeeze_ Sam! What the frigg? Why're you yellin' at me?"

Sam closed his eyes, sighing as he bowed his head.

"I'm sorry Adele. Just, please, trust me? You don't...

"_Sam_! Your brother's making a run for it!"

**-o-o-o-o-**


	11. Chapter 11

**C11**

-o-o-o-o-

Sam's head shot up, his anxious stare followed the direction in which Adele was pointing. He saw the driver's door of the Impala left swinging open and Dean diverting to run across the front of the car and into the road. The Impala's back doors were both thrown open as the man and woman who were travelling with Dean both got out and began to go after his brother. Sam glanced in the direction Dean appeared to be heading at the same time as he opened the Ford's passenger door.

"He's going for the market. I've got to go, thanks Adele. Now get out of here, ok?"

"But...

"I'm sorry I'm running out on you, I am. _Please_ Adele,_ go_!"

With the Impala abandoned and blocking the road, the traffic queue behind it was at a standstill, horns were blaring and pedestrians stopped to stare. A number of drivers were out of their cars, yelling abuse after the retreating backs of the couple running across the road towards the market, only narrowly missing being hit by an oncoming truck. Sam raced for the Impala _Good one bro', get everyone's attention, make it harder on those asswipes to use their angel mojo. Keep goin' Dean. Keep running."_

-o-

The only plan in Dean's head was to run. Run and, if he was lucky, spot somewhere he could hide. Weaving through the oncoming traffic, he made straight for the busy outdoor market, as an eruption of car horns, shouting and cursed threats serenaded his progress. He raced in amongst the first of the brightly covered stalls before the market traders fully cottoned on to the disruption on the road, and linked it to the crazy man careering through, around and once even up onto and across, their stalls. Having missed the chance to grab Dean and bring him down, the first row of market traders, along with some of the men who were being unwillingly dragged around by their other halves, and so were delighted at the prospect of some excitement, focused their determined anger on to the man and woman heading their way, clearly intent on following the course taken by the first stall wrecker.

-o-

In the lead, Harvey was the first of the two angels to be confronted by the snarling and yelling gang of traders and shoppers. With only a momentary hesitation, he cannon balled directly into them, knocking men left and right like a champion linebacker. He paused only long enough to pick up a heavy set trader who had stubbornly planted himself in front of the angel; lifting the man as if he weighed no more than a bag of sugar. Harvey threw the surprised trader onto the display table of another trader two rows back, smiling grimly as he watched the guy crash land onto the centre of the table, which was piled high with women's underwear and stockings. The whole thing collapsed, breaking in half. Instead of making people back off, Harvey's move immediately roused the attention of the other traders who had, until then, not known what all the noise from the street end of the market was about.

-o-

Surprise and speed had been on Dean's side, but now virtually all the traders had been alerted to the trouble amongst them, as had most of the shoppers. The noise levels around Dean increased as female shoppers shrieks, screams and verbal abuse joined the shouts of the men. Dean ducked, trying to evade the oncoming swing of a full tote bag aimed at his head by a feisty elderly lady. He was momentarily blinded when she scored a direct hit to his face, fortunately for Dean there was nothing solid in the bag. But it _did_ distract him long enough to miss a trader launching a flying tackle at him from the side. Dean grunted as the man smacked hard into him, grabbing Dean around the waist, trying to drag him down to the ground. A sharp punch to the trader's nose acted as a quick release mechanism. The have-a-go hero fell away, blood spraying from his broken nose. Arms whirling, Dean managed to stay upright and regain his balance. Seeing a crowd now furiously closing in on him, Dean dived sharply to the left and down, throwing himself onto his side under the nearest table and quickly rolling over the ground, propelling himself underneath the next row of tables and the one after that, where suddenly felt both his upper arms grabbed and held fast in a strong, firm grip whilst at the same time he was hauled bodily upright and plonked back on his feet, before being spun around

"Hello Dean."

**-o-o-o-o-**


	12. Chapter 12

**C12**

-o-o-o-o-

Still being held uncomfortably tight, Dean felt himself sag a little at the sight of Miriam, her features twisted in anger, seeming completely at odds with the calm, unhurried sound of her voice.

"I feel it is time this bit of fun should be brought to a close. Agreed?"

"_Hey you_!..._**Bitch**_!...Get your claws _off _my _brother_!"

-o-

Dean raised his head in time to see the large group of traders and shoppers gathered behind Miriam part, making way for the tall, well built owner of the commanding voice. Striding towards where the female angel had Dean in her grasp, Sam held one arm aloft, dangling a fake FBI badge from his hand for the benefit of the crowd. Right on cue as though on route to provide backup, the distant sound of police sirens could now be heard. Until then, Miriam hadn't taken her eyes off Dean and had maintained her tight hold on him. Now she smiled and winked at Dean before letting go of him. Throwing back her head, she stretched both her arms up, reaching out toward the sky, a momentarily frozen statue of a female figure, depicted trying to grab on to the edge of Heaven itself.

-o-

Knowing what was about to happen Dean turned his head, averting his eyes as shafts of blinding pure white light erupted and poured out of the human body which Miriam had hijacked and used as her own. The crowd's shouts of anger and abuse swiftly changed to screams and cries of fear as the gathering of onlookers began to run in terror; over turning stalls and barging without care past those who moved too slowly, in their selfish desperation to get away.

-o-

When the light show ended, Sam came to a standstill just over an armslength away from Dean. He felt uncertain as he looked to his brother, waiting for Dean to say or do something first. Initially, Dean did nothing except look steadily back at Sam then, like a sunrise, a genuinely warm and beaming grin transformed Dean's expression and he hurriedly moved towards Sam, grabbing his younger brother in a bear hug as Sam began to laugh with relief, delightedly returning his brother's hug.

"_No!_ _**Sam!**_"

The voice was familiar, Sam's reaction immediate, his sudden movement triggering a reflex action in Dean that had him standing at Sam's side a split second later. Seeing the man bearing down on them, Dean muttered _Angel_ before taking a step forward, directly into Harvey's path.

"Hey Harv. In a hurry are we?"

Heading directly for Dean, the furious looking Angel was in Dean's face and making a grab for the Hunter before Dean finished his sentence.

-o-

Angels could move fast, but so could Dean. Harvey's hands latched on to Dean's throat, all thoughts of Dean's usefulness gone, his only desire being to choke the life out of this human cockroach. Dean's gaze into the eyes of the murderous angel never faulted. He calmly raised both his arms above his head and clasped his hands together, creating the shape of an arch and turned his body to the right then taking two steps, instantly breaking the angel's death grip around his throat. Without pause and keeping his hands clasped to provide extra power, Dean drove his left elbow back into the angel's face. The whole move being executed in much less than a couple of seconds.

-o-

Dean felt the satisfying sensation of the angel's cheek bone crumbling under his attack, which made up for his own sudden, searing pain that lanced up from his elbow to shoulder; the result of forcefully pounding his elbow against something akin to a brick wall. With his back to the shocked and staggering angel, Dean grabbed at his own elbow, gritting his teeth and crossing his eyes rather than make any sound to betray his hurt. Hearing a grunt from somewhere from behind, Dean spun back around, in time to see Sam with a fist up against the angel's side and Harvey standing wide eyed and motionless, right before the angel sounded an animalistic howl as white light exploded from in and around the angel's whole body.

-o-

The Hunters watched as the light abruptly extinguished itself and the body of the man Harvey had possessed dropped tonelessly to the ground. Still holding his elbow, Dean glanced at the ornate silver dagger grasped in his brother's hand before meeting Sam's eyes.

"That the one I took?"

Still breathing heavily, Sam nodded.

"I was gonna sell it to get some cash...Probably as well I didn't huh? Is the sonovabitch dead?"

"No. It just forces the angel to abandon the body it's usin'. Give me a minute?"

Dean looked confused, but shrugged.

"Sure."

**-o-o-o-o-**


	13. Chapter 13

**C13**

-o-o-o-o-

Dean watched as his brother walked towards a woman Dean hadn't noticed previously. She was sitting on the ground, her back leaning up against the leg of an abandoned trader's table. Even from some yards away, Dean could see her shaking and it appeared that Sam knew her somehow. The sound of police sirens now having got very much closer attracted Dean's attention.

"Dammit! ... _Sam._ We need to move out."

Sam was squatting by the woman's side, one hand resting on her shoulder. Looking up at Dean's call, Sam waved Dean over and began to help the woman to her feet. As Dean approached, Sam threw him the keys to the Impala.

"This' Adele. Her car's with the Impala, at the back of the last row of market stalls. I'll explain once we're at the bunker, for now I'll drive Adele in her car and follow you. Give me a hand?"

Dean didn't query whether or not the woman should be taken with them. If Sam thought it was ok, then Dean was fine with it as well.

-o-

Adele sat at the kitchen table in the bunker clutching a tumbler of whisky between both hands. Dean and Sam were sat quietly on either side of her, watching and waiting whilst Adele stared thoughtfully down into the amber coloured liquor. Finally she raised her head and glanced from Sam to Dean and back.

"They're all real? Seriously?"

Sam laid a hand over the astounded woman's forearm.

"I'm afraid so."

"Shitwithsugarontop!"

Her reaction lead to a short burst of laughter from Dean and Adele turned to him, her eyebrows arched.

"What?"

"Sorry. It's just, well, we normally get a bigger reaction is all. You know? Doubt, denial, babbling, maybe all wrapped up with some hard and fast pacing back and forth."

Sam grinned.

"Yeah. But I already told you Dean, this is one tough lady. You said you're ex-forces, right?"

In the midst of taking a good slug of whisky as Sam spoke to her, Adele choked as she swallowed, breaking into a brief episode of spluttering coughs.

"Yeah...Er...About that? Being ex-forces and stuff. I mean, it's _true_, I really _am_. It's just...Well, I guess I might not have mentioned that I was a silver service waitress at the time."

Dean's eyes twinkled and he began laughing again. Watching him, Adele also broke into a wide smile.

"That photo doesn't come anywhere _near_ to doing you justice! ... You know, I was thinking, if it hadn't been for those rabid freakin' angels, I would never have met _either_ of you two adorable hunks. And I wouldn't now know about _any_ of this. That probably means I owe them one! ... So. What happens now?"

The brothers glanced at one another, some sort of communication passing between them before they both looked at Adele, their expressions serious. Sam gave Adele's arm a squeeze.

"What happens now is entirely down to what _you_ want to do Adele. You know you've got a home and a job to go back to."

Adele lowered her head again.

"I guess. Or...?"

Dean answered Adele's unspoken question.

"Or, we can team you up with an experienced Hunter, a good one. They'd train you, keep you safe till your ready to become their full partner. If that's what you want."

The answer was clear in Adele's eyes, in the look that said this was it. She had found something that she hadn't even known she was waiting for. Every day she woke up alone, dragging herself in to do a boring dead end job that she hated. At the end of each day she clocked out and went home, where she would sit alone again, nothing to do except wait until the next day, when she would drift through it all over again. Adele knew, with _absolute_ certainty, she wanted this, and she was prepared to commit. She just had once small concern.

"The Hunter you pair me up with? What if they don't like me?"

Sam grinned broadly and winked at her.

"What's not to like?

**-o-o-o-o-**


	14. Chapter 14

_**WARNING - **_T _Rated_ _Sexual Reference  
_**C14  
****EPILOGUE**

-o-o-o-o-

Wearing black satin, the de-throned King of Hell who was happily continuing to ignore Dean Winchester's frequent phone calls and messages, rolled off the lithe and beautiful female demon. Crowley did what was necessary on his part, but one he had done his bit, he was usually more than happy to lay back and leave the bulk of the work to his current sexual partner. After all, he was a King! And, as such, it was his Royal right to be served _Or should I say serviced? And this little darlin' certainly makes for one __**damn**__ fine mechanic!_ Right now however, having graciously blessed Lola with his Kingly come, Crowley was ready and eager for his post coitus dessert. He watched as Lola sashayed across to the bedroom wardrobe and opened it to reveal the latest hapless human to act as Crowley's own personal drug dispenser. Without a flicker of compassion, Lola drew more blood from the victim into a syringe, unconcerned when the victim's eyes closed and their head slump forward. Crowley licked his lips as Lola turned and strolled back towards him.

"Pantry's empty. We need another volunteer."

His attention fixed primarily on the syringe, and the promise of both pleasure and relief that the contents would bring him, Crowley gave the demon a brief glance.

"Better add it onto your to do list."

Crowley thrust the needle into his own arm, eyes rolling as the fresh human blood made it's way throughout his body. Laying back with a sigh of satisfaction, Crowley gazed up at the watching demon and smiled slowly.

"Lola ... I do believe I'm ravenous."

**FIN  
**Hugs, smiles and giant sized thank you's for the lovely reviews and  
comments I have had the honour to receive whilst writing this fic.  
**As many of you will know for yourselves, it can take hours**  
**to write a story, but it only takes a minute or so to review** **;**p  
_**Chick xxxx**_


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